hector rode by

hector rode by

even the dogs on 7^th street

wore bandages.

one man slept peacefully

on the sidewalk,

his head resting on the stoop,

his swollen hands folded

in hopeless prayer.

i gave a dollar

to a guy

with sweet eyes

who spoke to me

in seven languages,

none of them English

or Spanish

he wore a pistachio

shirt and brown

pants, a battered

ice cream cone

hector rode by

on a bicycle

draped in rosary beads

the rose garden

was locked

conga beats

and sofrito

drifted down

from the park

the sleeping man

rolled off the stoop

his friends

stepped over him,

gracefully

an unfiltered

cigarette

hung from his ear

Puma Perl
New York, NY

American Red Cross

Trembling Earth

Trembling Earth

The child was dead...mother, father too -
crushed in the abyss of the earth's fault line.
Muffled voices echo cries from centuries past
each time earth yawns to engulf its living creatures into its chasms.
Shattered lives breath the stench of the dead,
thanking God for being spared.
The spark of humankind amidst the rubble's roar
seeks life, nothing more.

Harriet Slaughter
Long Beach, NY
Doctors Without Borders

Casualties of War

Casualties of War

family portraits

planned but never taken

vacation funds

never withdrawn

a Mexican restaurant

minus one patron

steps to the deck

not quite complete

leaf-stuffed gutters

need to be freed

a toilet seat that will remain

forever in its appropriate place

a smoke detector

absent of its battery

snow swaddled sidewalks

lacking a strong hand

a "Daddy" stocking's

final battle cry

silent in its ornament box

Cheri Byard

Olathe, Kansas

American Red Cross

Peace

"Peace"

It's time for all to lay down their arms
Make peace with their neighbors
Give up the racism and rigidness that
The world has succumbed to.
Look outside and breathe in the sun.
Accept who we are inside, or change
So that we may be able to live with ourselves.
Go for a walk.
Listen to the peace of the running river.
Break the silence
Learn to trust
Taking each fall in stride.
Give up the burden of anger and pain
Stop living each day as a time bomb
Create your song
Sing to the sky.

Rebecca Porter
Rochester, NY, USA
American Red Cross

A toi, Ayïti

A toi, Ayïti

Predictable:
three seasons
windy, dry rainy

in the windy season
gusts whip and howl
waves crash onto rocky shores
trees dance a frenzied Compas
airborne birds flail, rudderless
everything in ominous motion
a cacophony for ear and eye

in the dry season
an impious sun draws closer
a glowing coal
grilling cattle live
vultures set to pillage putrefaction
burnt grass crackles underfoot
leaves, crisp like bacon

in the rainy season
creatures screech and warn
angry gray clouds
wild, like l'apache dancers
stop at nothing
raindrops pummel
torrents ravage mighty mapous

Not predictable: 12 January 2010
your earth quaked
Hades
in
Haiti
Qu'on te pleure, Haïti!
we weep for you

“ Pour le pays, pour les ançêtres,
marchons unis, marchons unis.!”
-- La Dessalinienne

Ursula Nouza
Syosset, NY 11791
Catholic Relief Services
World Vision Haiti Relief

The Beautification Of Lynching

The Beautification Of Lynching

Ajegunle, Lagos, Nigeria, March 6, 2033.

"Hol am! Hol am!! Hol am!!!"
"Thief! Thief!! Thief!!!"
"Ole! Ole!! Ole!!!"
"Onye Ori! Onye Ori!! Onye Ori!!!"
"Barawo! Barawo!! Barawo!!!"
"Catch him! Burn him!! Kill him!!!"
Hold That Boy! Do not let him escape!

And everybody went after him in hot pursuit with full fury
Brandishing all sorts of machetes and clubs and even stones
As well as locally-made pistols and double-barrel guns
With the breast-flapping market women thronging after the men
With kitchen utensils shouting and swearing in unison
"We must lynch him to death today, not even tomorrow"
"We must send him back to where he belongs to today"

Within minutes they caught up with
The tired, thirsty, tattered-looking lad
Still in the prime of his teenagehood
About 16 or 17 or something like that
A poor wretched-looking jobless lad
One of many victims of a corrupt government
Pushed by his country to stealing just to survive

And they beat a hell out of him
Just like a tinker does to a stubborn pan
Then put a tyre round his tender neck
Poured gallons of fuel on him
And burnt him to death just for stealing a Banana
And that was how his young life ended abruptly
A fate that should have befallen the corrupt leaders.

Chukwunwikezarramu Okumephuna
London, United Kingdom
Oxfam

A Song for Haiti

A Song for Haiti

I wish I could give more than this.
A tattered Jackson and a poem.
But if verse will soothe your shattered world,
then I will write for you an epic ode.
And if my words will nullify
your days endured, your dreaded dawns,
your endless ache of sleepless nights,
I will write for you a thousand songs.
I wish I could do more than hold
your sorrow in my humbled hand,
or watch your nightmare from afar.
As I write for you elysian prayers.
Each one will find its way to you,
lift the remnants of your crushing pain,
and free the Táino opia buried deep
in the loaming of your fractured land.

Teri McDowell Marks
Chadds Ford, PA
Partners in Health; American Red Cross

Indomitable

Indomitable

Where the tarred scar
of an amputated limb,
like jet-black jade,
is embedded in beaded bark:
Where the two ends
of dark barberry shoot pale
from the clipped hedgerow
stripling straight:
There is the will to survive,
startled by threatened extinction,
leaping in sudden strength,
Like Rafe, who jumped the six-foot fence
the day the bull chased him.

Rafael Tilton
Rochester, MN, USA
Catholic Relief Seviices

Light of the World

A brand new day emerges…sunlight slowly spills on a land ravished
by nature’s fury.

In compassion and faith, people share the burden that changes
the face of a country and reverberates around the world.

A time of great need…people from many lands come together,
hearts full. This is the true character of man.

Hope, peace and the promise of better days are within reach,
thanks to God’s sons and daughters.

Karen Bonnet
Oceanside, NY
World Vision

Pearl of the Antilles

Pearl of the Antilles

They walked and paddled
wanderlust and wondrous game, easily caught,
pulls proto-Indians east and south
across the Bering strait down to the Caribbean rim
from Venezuela to one hundred islands north and west
bringing cassava, cotton, tobacco, sweet potato
and five thousand years of language and culture

1492: Taino and Columbus collide
Taino-Arawak one million strong
Columbus armed with gun, smallpox, chain gang, iron, and time
Two generations later, 600 natives remain

1508: The thousand plantations must be fueled
Natives gone, West Africa’s humanity is for sale

1790: French slave masters destroy 30,000 slaves each year
Europe feeds on Haitian
tobacco, coffee, sugar, cotton, indigo
produced by the black gold
of the French bourgeoisie
750 ships, 24,000 sailors move this
cargo and humanity
from Africa to Haiti to Europe
the triangle of death

1804: Toussaint L’Oveture leads 30,000 slaves,
against Napoleon’s finest
actions birthed by the French and American revolutions
the little man’s dreams of new world empire extinguished,
French Louisiana sold,
the US doubles size

Haiti the second republic of the new world
The first freed slave republic
US, France, the rest of Europe responds
Haiti must be crushed
embargo and boycott
force her to pay 152 million francs
reparations to French and US bankers
Interest and principal paid off in 127 years,

1915: Wilson sends in the Marines
US debt collectors
19 years occupation
After 127 years interest and principal paid in full

1957-1986 the US runs Haiti
a client colony with
Papa Doc, then Baby Doc and
the tonton macoute
60,000 murdered, millions stolen
Haiti is in good hands

1990, Aristide elected, wins 90% of the vote, US coup, 1991
2000 Aristide reelected,
Demands 21 billion at UN
Kidnapping and coup 2004
2,000 disappeared

Jean Bertrand Aristide banished to Africa
Fanmi Lavalas, his party, barred from all elections by US

January 12, 2010
Earthquake
200,000 dead
Fourth invasion
200 flights a day
180 military flights
12,000 marines, guns, secure the rubble
(rumor of oil)
Graffiti in cite soley
“Marines al lakai nou”
“Nou pap tounin esclav enko”
Marines out, we will not be slaves

Haiti the struggle must continue

Tom Karlson
Medicc; American Red Cross

Mom and Dad

Mom and Dad

Watching
the stars Protecting me from
dangerous things
Hugging and kissing me

Surfing waves Cleaning up the
community Building LEGO buildings

Living all together Playing
with them Hoping they can
live
forever
with me because I love
them Cooking with
my Mom Drawing pictures
with my Dad Planting with
my Mom Having a good life Having

peace to

our

lives

Michael Mulhern, Jr.,
Age 7
Baldwin, NY
American Red Cross

A Symphony in the Wind

A Symphony in the Wind

Bass drums
rumble
in the distance,
a sonata
plays in the leaves of trees,
the clang
after a cymbal in the breezes,
strings and reeds play
as waves hit the shore,
a tuba
in a blast of wind,
a broken chord,
an arpeggio
of stories upon piano keys
as fingers from ocean waves
run uphill,
the background sound
that holds it all together,
like a breath.

Louise Mathewson
Eden Prairie, MN
Clinton-Bush Haiti Fund

For Haiti Rescue Team Members

For Haiti Rescue Team Members

The grinding sound of roaring
train announces earthquake's threatening
groan as people scream. and scream again!
Astonished terror never known, in any language
is the same--as parents die, and bodies maim.
Cathedrals crumble into dust; the Capital,
with columns fine, distorts and falls as buildings
must when earthquake tremors undermine.
They die beneath tombs of cement while cries
rise up in loud lament.

I see, and wonder how to aid. I hear,
and wonder what to do. Both age and distance
have forbade, but, suddenly I'm watching you
who leave behind both home and kin.
You wonder not, but fly right in to carry
food and water there. Not asking for permission slips
where need is strong, death in the air, the food
you bring to trembling lips sustains them.
Though sometimes too late, you never stop,
yield not to fate.

Dried blood and squalor, desperate pain
cause you and others, dawn to dark, to fly
where hope might not sustain without your skill,
determined heart. You witness bullies have their way
as smaller ones lose in the fray, and wonder
at the good you do. You weep for thousands,
pray for each. Brave doctors ferried in with you
attend to wounds as cries beseech. We.
We will send funds to help you fly with mercy
as hard days grind by.

LaVerna B. Johnson
St. George, UT
Utah Haiti Relief

All Things Big and Small

All Things Big and Small

At a certain moment
The sun shone ablaze
From my window
Its brilliance so intense
It lured me to the frame
A small wayward branch
On the naked trunk of my oak
Highlighted
Upstaging the majestic blue spruce
Leaving it in the shade
The few-dwarfed leaves
Appeared gold
Like precious charms
Linked on a small wrist
This unusual setting
As if planned by the gods
A delight in its most
Unobtrusive creation
For the moment
This small branch
Held in its glory
Golden promises
The acknowledgment
Of something greater
Than itself

Maria Manobianco
Farmingdale, NY
Catholic Charities

Sea Inside

Sea Inside

inspired by the painting Good Neighbors by Laurence L. Schultz

If you painted me into your picture
of the house that reminds me of the sea-
green stucco warm like gulf waters,
purple umbrella roof,
front porch orange as coral,
alien as coral and sponge
and phosphorescent fish darting.
If I climbed the tangerine steps-
three to the porch-
and walked inside,
you would paint me there in tropical hues.

A sea anemone-
my indigo hair, a fan,
my undulating yellow arms,
my rippling red legs.
I expel all air from my lungs
and settle to the sandy bottom,
to the cool deep, to the deep quiet, to the painted dark.
I settle into myself,
becoming small and dense and magnificent-
as still as anything in the sea.

Nicole Borg
Wabasha, MN
American Red Cross

Small, round words

Small, round words

We have talked this through on frantic city streets
when we were young: After all these years we are still
at a loss to learn the September sky; we go right on failing
to memorize the colors the leaves will turn
in autumn. Or the reasons science soon
might confirm your soul.

I am about to stop writing
about my dead. The poems
are piling up in plain pine boxes;
they're lining unmarked graves
and fluttering like ash above
the redbricked chimney
of the Woodlawn crematorium;
always, I am leaving
small, round words like stones
upon the crypt.

In the moments before our deaths,
we have heard them say,
we might gather strength to make
one last demand
that won't be met.

By then, unmet demands
may come as no surprise.

After all these years we haven't learned
to map the September sky.

After all these years
what we know best of summer
is our own penchant for missing
luminous moments.

Kenneth Salzmann
Woodstock, New York
Partners in Health

post mortem: an ode to agustin "eddy" jeudy

post mortem: an ode to agustin "eddy" jeudy

tonight
over pineapples & tea leaves
we spoke of smiles & poetry
& for one moment we all wanted
that old kitchen table to crack open
& give birth to a new lazarus.
one who would speak to us in creole,
show us what lights we couldn’t see
as our toes tap-tapped to the compas.

eagerly we awaited the slightest of sound.

crackle.
warm fire.
hush.
baby’s breath.

but that old piece didn’t budge.
even when we kicked its wooden
legs & prayed in secret for momentum
that damned table sat unmoved
statue-cold,
leaving us with only our eyes
agnostic.

John Medeiros
Minneapolis, Minnesota
Doctors Without Borders

Superior Trail

Superior Trail

Piney paths,
where blueberry dots wink engraved invitations
and birches impersonate chickadees trilling improvisational arias,
pitch perfect.

Jane Levin
Edina, MN
American Jewish World Service

Our Daughter’s Wedding

Our Daughter’s Wedding

A piece of me, us,

married last Saturday.

Like the Pillsbury Dough Boy,

I am puffed up and smiling.

Hundreds of photos

tumbled across my screen.

My weary heart and soul churned

“How lavish, and self-centered!”

Stress sapped and slapped me:

illness, new job, grandson.

I wandered among the throng,

smiling but not connecting.

I tripped on long gown.

Gave little, planned nothing,

Barely washed our hair and clothes.

We’d done our part to be there.

Frustrated waiting,

Why feathers, banners, weeds?

Pride and peace enfolded me

Creative decorations

Priscilla Bence

Martinez, GA
Salvation Army

Walk in the sunrise

Walk in the sunrise

Walk into the sunrise

In the minds eye I see

A portrait

Of majestic fire

Walk into the sunrise

Before me I see

The sky

Lit ablaze

Walk into the sunrise

In myself I see

A glimmer

Of hope

Walk into the sunrise

For a moment I see

The beauty

Of the world

Walk into the sunrise

In the sun I see

The cosmos

Everything before me

Gene Whipple

N. St. Paul, Minnesota

American Red Cross

Memories

Memories

That time of the year
Shall not be forgotten
That painful tale
Shall remain forever
The heart-rending aches
The piercing sighs
Shall make the earth shake
And shall make the dead wake
My eyes tell my tale
My heart all the time wails
The scaring pain
Shall be endured
With the face so pale
With eyes so wet
With the mind so disturbed
And with the heart so gloomy!

Ahmed Waheed Sarmed
Sherbrooke (QC) Canada
Canadian Red Cross

Surprised By Grace

Surprised By Grace

Stonehenge and dragonfly:
enduring and ephemeral
dance a spiral

light sparkles on water
goes flat in the interval
between sunshine and moon glow

stillness and shadow rule
loons call
into the void

surprised by grace,
Earth slips on her
axis, then
keeps turning
into the light

Judith Prest
Duanesburg, NY
Doctors Without Borders

We Are All Diminished

WE ARE ALL DIMINISHED

As the train pulls out
of Union Square, I see a thin
woman with torn sneakers,
standing in the center
of the car, holding tight
as the train lurches side to side.
She pleads in a loud voice,
"I've got children at home,
need to feed them.
Please help. A quarter,
a dime, a dollar, anything will
help." The only sound
is the rumbling of the train
through the tunnels
and the tinny beat
of music from a teenager's
ear phones. No one speaks;
no one donates;
we look at our feet.
The woman walks
through the car.
I avert my eyes.

Adam D Fisher
Stony Brook, NY
Amer. Jewish World Service

To the Long Buried

To the Long Buried

House heaped upon your head,
body buried under rubble,
tongue swollen, bones bent, skin red,
world narrowed to nightmare bubble.

Body buried under rubble,
what thoughts magnify your dread?
World narrowed to nightmare bubble,
calling last rites for the dead,

what thoughts protect you from dread?
Alive - fifteen days - durable
stalling last rites for the dead.
Beating all odds, formidable,

alive - fifteen days - miracle.
Tongue swollen, bones bent, skin red,
beating all odds, saint's double,
our awe heaps upon your head, instead.

Katerina Fretwell
Parry Sound, Ontario
Doctors without Borders

Rowan Fullmoon Moot

Rowan Fullmoon Moot

Freezing ground
Bright moonlight
Everything
Felt alright.
Friends around
In the night

In perfect sound
Perfect Loving
Friends abound.

Edward May
Catholic Agency For Overseas Development
Milton Keynes, England

Island Morning

Island Morning

All morning the surf
breaks on Burnt Head
giving up her secrets.
She throws them on the rocks,
one word at a time:
whispers, cries,
a nursery rhyme,
the sound of a man's voice.

Eggs roll in boiling water.
I watch the clock.
A voice in my head
from childhood speaks,
"only three minutes."
The toast is down.
butter and marmalade
sit on a cream colored plate.
I place the eggs
in a small white bowl,
carry them to the table;
take my knife and break
the egg in two,
turn it yolk side up,
pinch on grains of salt
and pepper, swallow
the history of my mornings.

The cries of an animal
rise from the beach.
Someone must love
it enough to search for it.
Leaves are turning upward,
the sky white with rain,
too cold for a stranger to find me,
too far for a friend to walk
on unknown ground.

Gladys L. Henderson
Nesconset, New York
Mercy Corps.

The Net of Elementals

The Net of Elementals

Two things I know:

the desolation of
impermanence and its
consolation inter
dependence.

Soul is the constant sound
between desolation and
consolation, an equanimity
that solves nothing but
holds to, holds on to its own
constellation.

Old words console the soul
with kindness for their own
kind like
sky and
sigh
scry and
wry
cry and
why why why

We cannot know until we are
dead and when we are dead we
cannot speak so the rest can hear.

Penn Kemp,
London Ontario, Canada
The Red Cross

Orphanage, Tirana, Albania

Orphanage, Tirana, Albania

A child peers through
a broken, barred window.
Rats tumble like acrobats
as they enter.

Water drips from overhead.
"It was the bombs. Watch out
for the holes in the floor."

They find a room
filled with babies
chanting
their own lullabies.

She holds hunger
to her milkless breasts
as cups of soup
glaze over with grease.

Linda Leedy Schneider
Grand Rapids, Michigan
Feed The Children